


All He Wanted Was A Rockstar

by FeelsAreFatal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Baker!Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, coffeshop au, rockstar!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelsAreFatal/pseuds/FeelsAreFatal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel owns a cafe in NYC and Dean, band in tow, arrives for a cup of coffee. The two hit it off and a cute little one shot is born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All He Wanted Was A Rockstar

Being a famous rock star was never one of Castiel's dreams as a child. First, when he was seven and his father asked him, he had said he wanted to be an engineer. He had been fascinated by trains as a kid and took to watching Thomas The Tank Engine on boxset. He'd collected the wooden models and the tracks and before you knew it, the Novak house was an obstacle course of complicated track routes. 

As most children do with toys, Castiel grew out of the trains by eleven and had moved on to wanting be an an architect. He sold his models and tracks for pencils, rulers and sketchbooks and had spent hours upstairs in his room drawing buildings and bridges in exquisite detail.

When he swapped his car-print curtains for burgundy ones at sixteen, Cas was ready to become an interior designer. His sketchbooks were soon filled with archways and paint swatches, layouts and different colour schemes based on house location and it's occupants. His room became a representation of himself and he spent his money from working at Starbucks on new decor. Fed up with tripping over the over-spill of cushions and half-empty paint cans, his parents moved him upstairs to the dull attic and told him to make it his own. 

After painting the walls royal blue and adding silver drapes to the bay window to match the silver, grey and navy cushions on the window seat he moved his double bed upstairs and made himself a navy duvet cover (yes, he has a sewing machine). 

Once finished with his renovations, Castiel grew tired of the whole idea of home improvement and at eighteen finally found his niche. He moved out after high school and went to college to become a baker. After graduation he opened his own bakery and coffee shop in New York City, of all places and became extremely successful. He had his own apartment above the shop where he applied his design skills and with some extra money, he had purchased the apartment above his and (using his past-obsession with architecture) made it into a two-story condo.

Cas never wanted to be a rock star, so imagine his complete and utter surprise when he falls head over heels in love with one. 

*  
It was the middle of September and he had just re-opened after taking his usual one-week vacation to update the cafe. The upholstery on the mahogany chairs had been switched from synthetic leather to a bright lime-green and white canvas, which he had also applied to the cushions in the booths. He was lucky enough to have a bay window at the front of the shop looking out into the street, just like the one in his attic bedroom from five years ago. He carried the green and white theme to said window as well as into the decor. He added a few more not-dying houseplants in interesting pots to the room, some on tables but most were cluttered on the ends of the counter or on top of the book shelf that was huddles in the corner by the window.

The candles flickered as the door opened, he always lit them before he opened at five thirty in the morning and blew them out around eleven thirty, so it was between those two times. Castiel had just pulled the second batch of cinnamon buns out of the oven and slid in the first batch of muffins. The cafe was empty and quiet, save for the clinking of measuring spoons and his whisk tapping the side of the bowl every so often as he stirred. He heard the bell tinkle quietly and turned around, half expecting to see Meg, a ruthless CEO of some advertising company who was usually his first customer, so when he saw who it was, he nearly dropped his bowl of pumpkin spice muffin batter.

Dean Winchester, the bassist for Supernatural was smiling at him happily from across the counter. The three other band members were crowded around one of the booths in the corner, chatting quietly. He could see Sam Winchester, the lead singer towering over Joanna Beth Harvelle, the guitarist and Ash McAllister, the drummer. They were all groggy and dressed comfortably. Castiel, snapping out of his daze, set down the bowl and stepped forward to take Dean's order. 

“Good morning,” he greeted, voice dropping into it's usual ridiculous baritone. “What can I get for you?” Dean smiled easily, green eyes crinkling.   
“Uh, three coffees. Two black, one double double and er, one with two sugars.” He squinted at the menu and grinned, “And four cinnamon buns,”  
“Four coffees,” he corrected, and immediately started to internally shoot himself in the head.   
“Huh?”  
“You said three, but you ordered four.” God dammit  
“Oh, yeah. Four,” he smiled, “Late night, we had a gig so my brain's lagging,” Cas attempted a smile,  
“Oh yeah? How did it go?” He moved down the counter to the glass case, where the recently made cinnamon buns were fogging up the glass. He put four on a plate and pulled four mugs from the dishwasher and turned around to start making the coffee. He fresh ground the beans and put them in a French press to steep.   
“Really well. Tickets went on sale a couple months ago and they were sold out within the first fifteen minutes, it was insane!”  
“Oh, I bet. I was planning to buy a ticket but I guess I didn't get there fast enough,”  
“Really? Are you a fan?” Castiel turned to look at Dean,  
“Well I wouldn't want to buy a ticket if I wasn't,” he replied, deadpan. Dean laughed,  
“Yeah, I guess not.” His green gaze surveyed the shop for a moment before he continued to talk to Castiel. “Is this your place?” He asked, eyes curious.  
“Yep, I've had it for three years. My apartment is upstairs,” Castiel reassured himself that Dean's eyes did not light up at that statement, because why the hell would he care where Cas slept...unless... Nope, hell nope, not gonna think about that.  
“Awesome! We all share a house in Manhattan, but we're on the road a lot so we don't usually get to have our rooms. I like being able to move around to where the fans are, but it's nice to settle down at home sometimes.” Castiel nodded. When he'd lived in a dorm room while he was in college, he hated not being able to make the space his own. 

“The coffee should be ready in a couple minutes if you want to sit down,” he mentioned, in case Dean would rather sit with his actual friends rather than talk to Castiel. Apparently he didn't though, because he just shrugged and told Castiel that he'd wait.   
“I like talking to you, Cas,” he reasoned after squinting at Castiel's name tag, and grinned when the other man blushed. “Don't be a fucking girl about it,” he teased and returned to interrogating Castiel about his life. 

*  
By the time the coffee was ready and had been delivered alongside the cinnamon buns to the rest of the band, Dean knew anything worth knowing about Cas and his family, and vice versa. There had been extra coffee so Cas sipped at a small mug of coffee as he resumed his muffin baking. After three batches and two more cups of coffee, had and Dean were still talking. The taller man had hopped up onto the counter and swung his legs around to face Castiel as he spoke, sometimes stopping to ask questions about what he was making. 

“Okay, so let me get this straight. Older brother slash dick bag named Gabriel, younger sister slash favourite child, Anna and middle child slash fifty bazillion star baker named, Castiel.”   
“Yep, basically. Except I think I've been rated four and a half stars out of five. At least, as far as Food Network is concerned,”  
“Dude! You were on Food Network?” Castiel grinned,  
“Twice. Once on You Gotta Eat Here and then again on Cupcake Wars,” Dean face fucking lit up like a Christmas tree.  
“What?! Cupcake Wars?” He sounded both impressed and insanely jealous, he twisted to yell at Sam, only his band had left, “What? Where-”  
“They said they were going back to the bus to sleep, that was about an hour ago,” he paused to hand a star-struck teenager her tea and her change. The girl stared at Dean as she shuffled towards the window seat. The line was getting longer no that eight o'clock had rolled around and even longer still when people heard that Dean Winchester the famous bassist was at Angel's Grace Bakery and Coffeehouse.   
“Oh. That's weird, I didn't hear them leave.” He shrugged and took a sip of his third coffee. Castiel smirked and ducked down to get the next patron a Pumpkin Spice muffin. Cas had guessed right that once September rolled around, the Ugg boots would come out along with everybody's inner white girl. “Did you win?”  
“Cupcake Wars? You'll have to watch the episode and see,” Dean pouted and picked up the can of whipped cream to fill up the half empty cup. Dean licked some off the rim of his mug and Cas swore he could hear every female in the joint swoon. He rolled his eyes and took the next order, ignoring the antics of his new friend.   
“When does your shift end?” He inquired, mouth full of whipped cream.   
“Ten o'clock tonight. I only have part-time workers on Sundays and Thursdays while I make the pies and do inventory.   
“Boo, you whore,” he complained before swallowing another mouthful of coffee.   
“Did you just quote Mean Girls?”   
“So what if I did? I'm bored and I have nothing to do today,”  
“I don't mind if you hang around the shop today, it keeps things interesting for me. You can man the whipped cream station,” 

So that's what they did. Castiel filled the orders and worked the cash and sent shaky fangirls towards Dean for whipped cream. They carried on like this until they ran out of either people or whipped topping, but by then it was already four thirty, the slowest time of the day, so Cas usually puts up the closed sign and takes his break. 

They eat a quiet lunch of chicken paninis and chocolate milk, because there's only so much coffee a guy can drink before he gets too hyper and decaf is for pussies. Dean fidgets as he eats and Castiel wonders of he's just high on caffeine or if maybe he should direct the poor guy to a bathroom. Of course if he did that he'd have to take him up to the apartment because to be honest the public ones could use an update. He adds 'updating the washrooms' to his mental to-do list and takes another bite of his panini. He was just about to say something when Dean beats him to it.  
“Hey man, do you have a washroom? I've had at least fifty cups of coffee today and-”  
“Dean, it's no problem. I'll take you up to the apartment because the cafe restrooms are... outdated,” he says it exactly the same way he was thinking about it in his head, because any other way and it would sound like he doesn't look after the property.   
“Thanks, man.” He looks visibly relieved, although he continues to squirm.   
“Let's go,”

 

Showing a famous rock star the bathroom in his apartment was never something Castiel imagined himself doing. He had a select few favourite bands, Supernatural being one of them, but he had never loved a celebrity to the point of imagining a certain domesticity with them. Anna had fantasized meeting Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day, and had even admitted to Castiel that she sometimes imagined coming home from work and seeing him making dinner in a pair of flannel sleep bottoms. Castiel could see why such a thing would be appealing, learning a secret side to someone everybody seemed to know everything about, but for some reason he had never done it.

Dean slips into Castiel's ice blue washroom immediately and Castiel busies himself with tidying the sitting room. He collects the garbage from last night's takeout and puts it in the bin and wipes up some stray bits of rice, shaking the cloth into the sink just as Dean walks out.   
“Nice place,” the man approves after an appraising look around the open room. The entire apartment is shades of blue. The bathroom, office, living room and kitchen are all pale ice, the bedroom is royal blue and the 'loft' as Castiel likes calling the upstairs, a deep navy like that of his room as a teenager.   
“Would you like a tour?” He offers hesitantly. If it's quick he'll still be able to re-open at five thirty for the after-work rush.   
“I'd love a tour.” 

The main floor goes quickly, especially the bedroom because Dean got this dark, sort of lusty look in his eye and Cas really doesn't want to be some quick fuck for a travelling rock star that he'll probably never see again. In fact, he should have just given Dean his stupid cups of coffee and sent him away. But then he wouldn't have had the chance to actually become friends with him, even if it's just for a day. He almost doesn't show Dean the loft, but changes his mind because they're already right in front of the stairs. 

The loft is where Castiel spends most of his time. It's open and somewhat massive because it used to be a whole apartment for God's sake. The floors are sandalwood and there's a huge cream shag carpet rug taking up most of the floor and an equally large flat screen on one wall. He has just about every kind of chair under the sun, including bean bag chairs, a chair that sort of looks like a giant ladel hanging from the ceiling and a huge plush blob about the size of a car (and that's being modest) as well as a hammock in the corner.   
“Dude! This is freaking awesome!” Dean shouts and he jumps onto the plushie (as Cas calls it because it really doesn't even have a name) and is immediately swallowed by it, legs scrambling in the air.   
That was the moment Cas knew he was in love with Dean. 

As the months progressed, Castiel got more and more tangled in his strange crush for his growing-to-be best friend. Dean obviously had to leave for extended periods of time for concerts and mini-tours within a five state radius but for some reason he, and sometimes the band, would return to Angel's Grace. Sam claimed it was for the coffee, Ash said it was for the donuts, Jo said it was because she never got to finish the books she starts from Cas's shelf in the corner but Dean would just shrug and smile. 

Cas, as he came to be known by the whole band, maybe saw the three of them twice in a couple of months, but Dean made an effort to stop by every two weeks at least, even if it was just for a coffee. Then, all of a sudden, sometime in April or May, he started getting in a whole new slew of customers who already knew him by 'Cas'. Confused, he asked a few of them how they knew him and they smiled and said 'Dean'. 

He knew for a fact that Dean didn't have that many friends so the bassist must have let something slip in an interview. He didn't really understand why so many teenage girls were obsessed with learning anything and everything about Dean's life, or why they would go out of their way to spend hours, days just simply watching Supernatural talk about themselves. 

Maybe it was because he knew Dean considerably well from just talking to him but it was a little bit creepy that suddenly a coffeehouse for working people also turned into some sort of cool high schooler hang out. Not that he minded, it was always nice to have the extra cash and he raised the prices by ten cents, just so he could profit that much more and also so he could keep up with the constantly dwindling inventory. 

To find out, he decided to creep YouTube. 

After about four hours of Supernatural interviews, he understood why all these fangirls were obsessed with him. Dean had mentioned him at least twice in each one of the seventeen interviews that he'd seen and one had spent about five minutes just talking about Dean's relationship with Castiel. Cas supposed he should be upset, but in reality he was quite flattered. 

What he wasn't expecting was for Dean to come back the next day and kiss him soundly on the mouth in front of the entire shop. Mind you, it was also ten minutes to closing so there were only two people there, but still. That first kiss had ignited something in them both and a year and a half later, here they were. 

After the first few (extremely hot) kisses, Dean insisted that Cas come with them whenever they went on tour longer than a week. Castiel agreed, because how can you say no to an offer like that?

Anna had recently graduated university, she'd majored in business, so Cas left the shop in her care whenever he was away with Dean. His family had accepted the news happily, barely batting an eye at the fact that he was gay. Although he probably clued them in with his design obsession and career choice. 

*

They still hung out at the coffee shop of course and once Dean even ventured to do more than adding whipped cream, but the second time he broke a blender Cas made him work the cash register, which he was also terrible at so eventually he was down graded back to whipped cream. 

That night, after closing they went up to the loft to watch TV. Conveniently, Cas's episode of Cupcake Wars was on, so they watched that.   
“What the hell, man? You lost to a tomato cupcake? I've had your chocolate avocado ones and they're awesome! The judges just picked Ruby 'cause she's hot.   
“I'm not hot?” Cas pouted,  
“Of course you are, but only I'm allowed to say it.”  
“What? Why?” Dean nuzzled into his collarbone,  
“Because if anyone else says it they're probably hitting on you and I get really jealous and possessive so I'll knock them out,” Cas lets out a throaty laugh at that and kisses Dean on the nose.   
“You're about as scary as a squirrel. I doubt you could get that poss- oh,” he groans as Dean moves over him, licking a path up Castiel neck and sucking in a number of purplish marks. As he starts stripping Castiel of his clothes, Dean shows his boyfriend how possessive he can be.

After, as if to prove a point, Dean tells Cas that they're going to Atlanta for two weeks and that Cas is going with them.

*

That's how Castiel Novak got here, standing backstage to a Supernatural concert that had sold out within the first five minutes with an all-access pass around his neck. 

The band was playing their last song of the night, Jo was almost through her guitar solo and he could see Ash's hair flying from the wings. From where he was standing he had a perfect view of Dean, who was sweating buckets, his hair stuck up all over the place and his fingers moving rapidly on the bass, head bobbing to the drums and his mouth forming the shape of the words Sam was singing. Sam was strumming at his own guitar, and his movements were slow and sultry. Cas could see why he was the most favoured member of the band. Jo and Dean were tied, and if Jo were a guy then she would be the second favourite. Ash was last, mostly because of his weird hair and his reluctance to speak. 

The song came to a smashing end, Jo flipping her hair and giving her best 'come hither' look to the audience, Sam also flipping his hair and taking a step back from the mike, Ash did something like a hair flip only it mostly just got caught in his eyes and Dean turned his head to look at Castiel. 

His ears popped at the sudden screaming that rang throughout the concert hall. Cas waited for a security guard to escort him down to Dean's dressing room, but apparently the concert wasn't over. Dean hadn't mentioned playing a bonus track and Sam was moving away from the microphone. Dean suddenly moved to Sam's vacated place and hall fell silent, quieter than an empty house. Dean cleared his throat and Cas's breath caught. Dean Winchester never sings. 

He coughs and then finally says something, quiet at first and then Jo tells him to speak up.   
“Hello Atlanta,” he says tentatively and the crowd fucking erupts with screams. He's not confident like Sam is at the mike, so he takes a few minutes to regain his bearings, waiting for the crowd to quiet down again. “Um, so you guys are probably wondering what's happening, and uh, I don't really know myself so I'm just gonna wing it. Nobody but the band knew about this so, uh, surprise,” he attempts a small, but it's very awkward. “You guys all know my boyfriend Cas,” the walls echo with the screaming, “I'll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, “Tonight, um, tonight is the anniversary of the day we first met,” Fuck, Cas had forgotten. Dean hadn't even done anything and Cas was already crying. “So, I dedicate this surprise cover to him. Um, it's called Come Back When You Can by Barcelona.” 

The music starts and Castiel sniffles and he's sobbing by the time they get past the first chorus. Dean continues and it's obvious that he's choking up a little bit, but he pushes through to the end.

_You left your home  
You're so far from  
Everything you know  
Your big dream is  
Crashing down and out your door.  
Wake up and dream once more._

_Come back when you can.  
Let go, you'll understand.  
You've done nothing at all to make me love you less.  
So come back when you can._

_Come back, I'll help you stand.  
Let go and hold my hand.  
If all you wanted was me, I'd give you nothing less.  
So come back when you can _

The crowd cheers and then security is escorting him down to the dressing room where he has to wait fifteen fucking minutes until they let Dean come downstairs. He paces the floor and bites his nails, tears still crawling down his cheeks by the time Dean slips in.

Castiel charged forward and slams the taller boy up against the door, gripping him by his stupid ACDC t-shirt that Cas gave him for Christmas.   
“Listen here you fucking idiot,” he cries, “What gives you the right to fucking do that, huh? Do you think I wanted to spend the rest of the night getting fucked into a fucking hotel mattress,? No! I didn't, but now that you sang that stupid fucking song for our stupid fucking anniversary and made me cry, now that's what going to fucking happen, you hear me?” Dean grins and Cas wants do drop dead because that fucking smile, but instead he just kisses his stupid boyfriend. 

He kisses him senseless, his tongue ruthless as his hands wander and it's probably a good thing that Dean pulled away because otherwise they'd be naked on the floor in a room with no lock.   
“Cas, stop. Just, stop for a second,” he kisses Castiel again, because why the fuck not let's just give Cas a boner that he has to sit through while sitting with Dean while he signs shit. “I-I wasn't gonna do this now, but I don't want to wait until we get back to the hotel because that seems really stupid and I mean it's kinda impersonal so-”  
“Dean, shut up.” Cas cuts him off, kissing him again. What Castiel really doesn't expect is for Dean Winchester, bassist of Supernatural to sink down on one knee and pull out a fucking ring. “Dean,” he starts to protest, but he's cut off by a choked sob that he only half realizes is his own. 

“Castiel Novak,” Dean begins,  
“Dean-” Castiel says again and the other man glares,  
“Can you just shut the fuck up, for like, one second please? I already rehearsed this in front of Sam enough times-”  
“Sam! Sam knew?!” He shrieked, but let Dean continue.  
“Castiel Novak. You are the bane of my existence-”  
“Way to win a guy over, Dean.”  
“Can you just let me finish, please? Instead of criticizing everything I do? Just let me fucking propose already, Jesus. Okay, I'm starting over again,”  
“Just skip to the end,”  
“NO! Fuck dammit. I'm doing the whole thing, okay! I didn't spend three days writing this for me to just skip to the end.” He grounds himself, and it's hard to have an argument with Dean when he's on his knees in front of you trying to propose. “If you interrupt me one more time I swear-”  
“Swear on what?” Dean smacks him in the thigh and ignores him.

“Castiel Novak. You are the bane of my existence and I love you. For the past year and a bit, I've fallen so deeply in love with you that I'm drowning in it, and I'm loving every fucking second of it. I loved meeting you for the first time at six thirty in the morning, I loved spending the whole day with you, manning the whipped cream station. I loved it when you showed me you apartment for the first time, and I didn't know it at the time that one day I'd mess up a riff onstage because I was thinking about you. I didn't know at the time that I would meet the one person who thinks eating pie all day is a job and that that same person would one day would being having sex with me on a truck sized pillow. Cas, you're the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with serving whipped cream in a coffee shop in New York and eating pie and hopefully having lots and lots of sex with. So, Castiel Novak, will you -”  
“Yes!, Fuck yes, yes!”  
“You idiot I didn't even finish the question. It doesn't count if I don't say it. God dammit, you fucking ruined it,” he growled. “Cas, will you marry me?”  
“YES! Fucking, yes!” He fell to the floor and kissed Dean happily as his fiance slid the silver and ceramic ring onto his finger. 

Later that night, Castiel Novak realized all he ever wanted was to marry a rock star.


End file.
